


Crying Wolf

by WishIwasMeg



Category: Benton Fraser/ Margaret Thatcher, due South
Genre: F/M, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishIwasMeg/pseuds/WishIwasMeg
Summary: Diefenbaker has a plan.
Relationships: Ben/Meg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Crying Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little bit of nonsense to celebrate Canada Day. As someone on the show once remarked:" Now there's a country that knows what to export." And a certain multi- talented Albertan would come pretty high up my list!

Inspector Margaret Fraser, née Thatcher, RCMP was not happy. She was sitting bolt upright in her bed beside her husband of two weeks, and between them, on top of the covers, lay an Arctic wolf.  
“It won’t do,” she said icily. “I am NOT going to play second fiddle to a wolf. You’ll have to DO something, Benton.”  
He had learned in the six weeks of their engagement and the two weeks of their marriage that when she called him “Benton”, things were not looking too rosy. At least she had stopped calling him “Fraser”, or even worse “Constable”, when they were off duty. What she called him while they were making love was another matter entirely…..  
His mind snapped back to the present. “God knows I’ve tried, Meg, but he just won’t listen. I think he’s feeling a bit put out and neglected… It’s only natural…”  
“Natural! He’s a wolf for God’s sake! I’m your wife!”  
Lying between them, Diefenbaker pricked up his ears. He was only deaf when it suited him and he was now listening with satisfaction to this altercation between his master and the woman who had supplanted him in the pack order. He would show her who was number two around here.

*****  
They had returned earlier that day from an ecstatic honeymoon, picked up the half-wolf from the Vecchios’ house where he had been spoilt rotten during their absence and driven to Meg’s apartment which was to be their new home. He had greeted his master affectionately and given the female a peremptory sniff before settling down on the sofa.  
“Diefenbaker, down!” said Ben, but he had chosen not to hear. “He’s probably feeling a bit lost,” said Ben apologetically. “He’ll soon settle in.”

When night came and the humans started getting ready for bed, Diefenbaker crept from the blanket he had been assigned beside the kitchen stove and snuck into the bedroom. When they found him, Ben ordered him down from the bed but was met with stubborn resistance.  
“Benton Fraser, I am NOT going to have carnal relations with you while there’s a wolf watching,” she said emphatically, so he picked up the animal and unceremoniously dumped him in the hallway, firmly closing the bedroom door in his face. At this Dief sent up an almighty spine-chilling howl which was conducive neither to carnal relations nor, to put it mildly, to friendly relations with their neighbours in the apartment block.

His wife was not amused. His friend Ray had warned him about something called “PMS” which Ray, having two sisters and an ex-wife, knew all about.  
“You’re treading on eggshells for a few days each month, Benny. You just have to sit tight and weather the storm,” he had warned, and Benton Fraser was beginning to learn from experience that his friend was right.  
“He’s your wolf. You’ll have to take him in hand,” she said in that tone of voice she used professionally which had been known to reduce grown men, including himself, to quivering wrecks. So, feeling rather foolish, he had sat down opposite the wolf, made sure he had got the animal’s full attention and addressed him thus:  
“Now look here, Dief. This has gone far enough. You are being petty. You’ll just have to accept her.”  
Dief woofed in a “that’ll be the day” manner.  
“Now don’t you take that tone with me,” said Ben. “I love you dearly, but I love her more. Don’t make me choose.”  
Dief was shocked “Wrrrrfff ….You wouldn’t choose her over me?” he growled, “I saved your life, remember.”  
“Yes, I know, but you are being unreasonable. You can surely try to get along for my sake.”  
Diefenbaker considered. How far could he push this? He wasn’t ready to give up yet, though, and continued to invade their room at night. No matter how hard they tried to keep him out, he always seemed to manage to find his way into the bedroom. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out how to open the door, and short of installing a lock or barricading the door, the humans were at a loss what to do. Sometimes he was there ahead of them and had to be dragged protesting off the bed. Sometimes he lulled them into a false sense of security by settling down meekly on his blanket at bedtime, then launching himself into their bed in the middle of the night. The nocturnal howling didn’t help either. After a string of disturbed nights, Meg finally put her foot down.  
“It’s either him or me, Ben,” she declared. The ultimatum was delivered with a steely glare from those chocolate brown eyes which drove him crazy.  
“How would it be if I asked Ray to take him overnight?” he suggested. Dief was delighted, as Ma Vecchio’s kitchen provided him with a never-ending source of snacks. He could resume the campaign later.

That night "carnal relations" were re-established to the mutual satisfaction of both parties, and next day Ray dropped the animal off at the consulate on his way to work. Dief greeted his master warmly, sniffed the alpha female and much to their astonishment sat down in front of Meg, wagged his tail and offered her a friendly paw.  
“What in the world has got into him?” she pondered.  
“I wonder what he’s up to,” said Ben warily.

*****  
The mystery was solved later that evening. As Ben was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, he became aware of his father perched on the toilet seat.  
“Hello, Dad. What brings you here?” He had yet to explain the phenomenon of his father’s ghost to his wife. Life was complicated enough at the moment without having that particular conversation.  
“Hello, son. I see the wolf has fallen into line.”  
“Yes, I don’t understand it.”  
“Isn’t it obvious, son? You know what wolves are like about children. Now that Margaret is pregnant, he has come over all protective of her and the baby.”  
“What are you talking about, Dad? Meg isn’t pregnant.” (Chance would be a fine thing, he thought.)  
“Oh yes she is, son. The child was conceived last night and the wolf knows it.”  
“Dad, you weren’t watching…?”  
“No, no, son. I’ve kept to my promise not to pry into the bedroom. But ghosts know these things, as do wolves. Take it from me, nine months from now, your kid, my grandchild, will be born.”

He was right, and Diefenbaker proudly accepted his place as number three, soon to be number four, in the pack, with (self-appointed) Special Responsibility for the Cub. He never invaded their bedroom again. It had finally dawned on him that that was where human cubs were made, and he was hoping for plenty more in the future.

HAPPY CANADA DAY TO CANADIANS EVERYWHERE!


End file.
